


Never Be Satisfied

by josiepug



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Reynolds Pamphlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:26:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6155119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiepug/pseuds/josiepug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angelica confronts Alexander after the Reynolds Pamphlet. Partly inspired by Congratulations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Be Satisfied

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one-shot that I couldn't get out of my head. I'm working on a much longer AU that should be starting to go up soon. Enjoy!

Alexander Hamilton was doing his best to focus on writing. Usually, when he sat down to work, he could block everything out. The thousands of thoughts jockeying for position inside his head would coalesce into the smooth scratch of his quill and the quiet, inexorable rush of time. Today, he was fragmented. Ever since the pamphlet—the Reynolds Pamphlet, they called it—he had been unable to enjoy his work, to lose himself in it. He hadn’t felt this level of distraction in years. His mind kept conjuring images of Eliza, his sweet, beautiful Eliza, and the hurt that marred her face every time she looked at him. She had not cried in front of him, and that, perhaps, stung more than all the rest combined. He had lost the right, the privilege, to comfort her.

The tip of his quill broke, and he dropped it in frustration. Sighing, he decided to re-read what he had written. Surprisingly coherent, considering everything.

Eloquence had never been his problem.

The door to his office swung open, unheralded by a knock.

Angelica Schuyler Church stood framed in the doorway, skirts billowing out on either side of her, face set and stormy. He had exchanged few words with her since her abrupt return to America. She was perennially by Eliza’s side, where he could not be. He had never doubted, however, that this moment was coming.

“Good evening, Alexander.” She walked up to his desk, but did not sit down. 

“Angelica,” he replied, waiting. He felt a little sick. She stood over him, towering. He did not rise to meet her.

“I’ve just come from your wife’s home. She begged me not to disturb you at work. I said that I preferred you disturbed at all times.”

“Eliza has always been exceptionally considerate,” Alexander said carefully. Angelica’s eyes were flashing.

“You don’t get to say that.”

“Angelica. I’ve been apologising for weeks, and I know it’s not enough, but it’s true. She’s considerate and kind and more than I’ve ever deserved. We all know that.”

Angelica shook her head angrily, and Alexander couldn’t figure out for the life of him what he’d said wrong this time. “Don’t say it like that. Don’t say you never deserved her. You could have. If you’d tried, you could have been worthy of her. Don’’t blame fate or God or what have you. You could have done it right, and you threw it all away.”

Alexander rubbed at an ink stain on his thumb, not looking at her. Maybe she was right, maybe not. In some ways, it didn’t matter. It was done. It had been done for years. Only politics never stopped and dragged the whole world with it. Eliza had been the only thing that had ever kept him grounded. Not now. After a long moment, he looked up into Angelica’s eyes. She was still very beautiful, more so when angry. And he understood her anger. He really did, and yet, she was being wilfully stubborn about this. 

“I thought you would be the one who understood what I was trying to do.” She did understand, she always had. It probably scared her. It should. She frowned. He could feel her ire building once more.

“Trying to do? What exactly were you trying to do, Alexander? Exonerate yourself by dragging Eliza’s name through the muck? Steal back Jefferson’s ammunition? Explain yourself by hurting everyone you love? Why would I understand that?”

Alexander took a deep breath. These were dangerous waters, but he was drowning anyway. “You understand the Reynolds Affair. You know what it’s like. And…and protecting yourself. Making sure you can keep going, keep speaking out, at any cost.”

Angelica was practically spluttering with rage. “You’ve gone mad. Are you going to try to drag my marriage into this? Compare John Church, decent man though he is, to Eliza? There is no similarity. If I was married to Eliza..” she hesitated for a beat. “If I was married to you, I would _never_ do something like that. Throw it all away. Throw either of you away. Not to mention tell everyone like the world is your confessional.” She was holding back tears, her voice rough at the edges. “How could you do this? I will never understand how you could do this to Eliza. And you think, just because—I would never…”

Alexander looked at her flatly, tiredly. “Are you truly certain? Do we so irrevocably change you? Would you be satisfied?”

She froze. 

For a moment he thought she might slap him. Then she slumped down to sit on the edge of his desk, putting her face in her hands. He reached out to her, settled a hand on her knee. They sat that way for what felt like hours. Finally, Angelica spoke, her voice a little hoarse.

“She’s the best thing in our lives.”

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Review if you are so inclined and talk to me on tumblr at www.ast0ryintheend.tumblr.com


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